


Another side of Lithuania

by MsMadieurne



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Comfort, Just comfort, Lithuania's Scars, M/M, My First Work, No pairings - Freeform, Scars, sleepover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 13:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7804018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMadieurne/pseuds/MsMadieurne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lithuania has been acting antsy ever since he arrived at Poland's house for a sleepover. Only soon enough will Poland realise what's been stressing Lithuania out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another side of Lithuania

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do a fic based off the Hetalia comic strip for Lithuania's scars. I guess this is sorta how I imagine things may have gone down? I don't know. I wrote this more for a writing exercise so I could get back in the habit of writing fics.

Sitting on the couch on his own, Poland flicked through the latest Elle magazine, flat mint green eyes idly scanning the shiny pages. He was  _ supposed _ to be having Lithuania over for a sleepover, but the other seemed… On edge. Bouncing a leg over his other as Poland peered away in thought; he really couldn’t understand why the other had been so antsy to stay over. His thoughts were cut off as he heard the door open, and the Pole rolled over to look over the back of the couch.

“Yo, Litwa!” he cooed to his friend, who was by now kicking off the large boots he’d worn to the store. His hands were full with bags of snacks and some food from the Troja Gyros down the street. As the Lithuanian glanced up, his expression grew from casual to unnerved, quicker than Poland had ever seen him. Poland pursed his lips slightly.

“Lit, what’s wrong? You’re looking totally stressed out.” the shorter man snickered, raising a blonde brow as he draped an arm over the edge of the couch. “C’mon, it’s a sleepover!” reminded Poland, pulling himself up slightly and grinning brightly. Laughing a little sheepishly, Lithuania nodding, brushing chestnut strands of hair from his face.

“I’m fine!” he insisted, voice shaking slightly. If Poland noticed, he didn’t seem to show it, merely whining in protest. Casting his chartreuse gaze aside, the taller man reached a hand behind his head to rub the back of his neck. “May I use your bath?” he requested lightly. Confusion melted into assurance as the Pole nodded. Oh, he was probably just stressed. Maybe Russia had worked him a little too hard, or maybe America had taken him out? Who knew.

Soft footsteps padded away from the living room as Lithuania set the bags of food onto the kitchen counter, before they retreated to the bathroom, closing the door. Poland heard no click of a lock, but that didn’t really bother him. They were friends, males to add to that, they weren’t self-conscious of each other, as far as Poland thought. He had walked in on him changing pants, and though the Lithuanian was initially surprised, neither of them was really embarrassed about it.

Turning back to his Elle magazine, Poland flicked through the edition and let out a sigh. “What’s gotten into Lit?” he pondered, voice barely a whisper as he spoke to himself. Sliding his legs to his chest, the Pole draped his arms around them and rested his chin on his knees, puffing out his cheeks, deflating them and repeating the process multiple times. Was he maybe sick? That could be a plausible hypothesis! Maybe he was stressed out, he did look that way. This was a sleepover, though, Poland could easily make him feel better! 

Snorting, the Polack slid from his spot on the couch, and found his way to the kitchen, rummaging through his drawers. “I’ll play a joke on him~.” he giggled mischievously, pulling out a mini water gun and filling it with water from the tap. Squirting it briefly, he grinned, light green eyes shining with slyness as he crept towards the bathroom, a hand reaching for the handle. Movements instantly halted as he heard gently, muffled mumbling coming from the doorway, and the Pole paused, pursing his lips together as he leaned close to let his ear push against the door, searching for Lithuania’s voice.

“--Surely he’d be disgusted by them.” he heard from the other side, which only seemed to confuse Poland further. Who would be disgusted? And what would ‘he’ be disgusted by? It didn’t seem to add up. “He’d probably ask more questions than I could answer. I don’t want to go through the stress.” he heard once more. 

Gripping the doorknob, the thought of pranking Lithuania seemed to vanish from his mind as the door opened quietly, practically no sound. The sound of the door unclicking from the compartment seemed to be drowned out by the sound of water splashing as the taller Baltic splashed his hand into the water. A pale back was hunched over slightly, dark hair draped around the shoulders of his friend. Chartreuse eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed. This was a side of Lithuania that Poland had never seen before. Sure, sometimes Lithuania could be a little serious, but… This expression, the way he seemed to be, so scarily quiet, really unnerved Poland.

Narrowing his eyes, the scars on the other’s back seemed to grab most of his attention. Deep, scabbed-over scars on his back, ranging from short to long, made his back the canvas of war, it seems. And unfortunately, that’s what countries have to deal with. Poland has faced his own battle scars, not just on his body. Asthma had plagued him all those years ago, and being short was something caused by war. Lithuania had to deal with a much more painful version, it seems. Now, the Lithuanian was nowhere near lanky, he was quite strong and sturdy, Poland knew this. He was stronger than people took him credit for, he beat the living daylights out of Prussia once before. 

So seeing Lithuania so…. Vulnerable was a surprise. He had never seen Lithuania’s scars before, he doubted anyone had seen them. Well, except for Russia, probably. He was probably the reason for at least half of them, no doubt. Mint green eyes stared for a few moments longer, before trailing down to the floor, and he shut the door, waiting until the door was firmly against the doorway before he turned the doorknob and let go. It was silent, scarily so. He felt intrusive, as if he wasn’t supposed to see the scars, like he’d just invaded Lithuania’s personal space beyond what man’s comfort. Worrying his bottom lip, Poland couldn’t help the feeling of mutuality and respect coming more so from him to Lithuania. He respected him a lot before now, and he only felt more respect, for some reason. 

“There’s a side of Lithuania I  _ don’t _ know.”


End file.
